


Oh My God! They were Mind Mates (they were mind mates)

by tylernolslugs



Category: Cartoon Therapy (Web Series), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Consensual Kink, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Multi, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sex, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-03 22:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19473235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tylernolslugs/pseuds/tylernolslugs
Summary: Cue vine references and smut, and feel free to request prompts.





	1. Logan's clothing; Accidental.

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: LAMP (V/L/R/P)  
> Chapter Includes: sex, blowjobs, hickeys, foursome and applied exhibitionism  
> Warnings: N/A   
> (feel free to let me now if there is anything potentially triggering)

Logan didn't really understand how he had gotten himself into this situation. Functionally, and practically, he understood it to a tee. With intent and purpose, he had been going to the kitchen to replenish his cup, he had to stay hydrated to maintain a sharpness akin to Roman's sword, and then some. With retrospective thought, there was still some confusion- he hadn't been walking in any certain way, or moving his body in what could be deemed as a seductive manner but as he strode through the living room and into the kitchen, the other sides' attention had been absorbed.

Patton, who was playing one of those app games that are always advertised on YouTube and Instagram, had his head down and focused, he was sat in the kitchen, waiting for his tea to cool. Virgil was sat opposite him, sipping coffee and jamming blissfully to some music, one headphone in and the other looped around the back of his neck. It was Roman first to notice Logan, he was sprawled across the sofa, idly watching a movie while furiously sketching- the way his body was; lax juxtaposed with his eyes- tired and bright- and manically moving hands always intrigued Logan- but Logan had a goal which was to hydrate and then return to work. Roman, however, once Logan momentarily graced his periphery, had other thoughts cloud his creative mind. Virgil was the one to notice Princey's rocking chair-bolt-upright movement, and stared at him in bewilderment before he noticed. His face goes as dark as his hoodie. The look he exchanges with Roman was pure heat, magma and arousal, viscus and sultry. Logan had his back to them though, and was focused on refilling his glass at the sink, trying to readjust the locomotive of thoughts in his head to work and not Roman's hands, or the comfort Virgil and Patton exuded. Patton, Patton can sometimes be a bit unobservant, but he is morality, and he is feelings. So when he felt the spike of lust fizzle electrically in the air, he looked up in acute confusion, his glance dancing about until it landed on Logan.

Logical, but oblivious, Logan was puttering about at the sink, wearing shorts shorter than Roman's patience.

Admittedly, it was quite warm, but that did not mean that the other sides were gallivanting around in clothes not ever seen on them before, Logan had never worn shorts in there presence before and just the sight of his olive thighs was tantalising. The logical side himself has just finished filling his glass and put it briefly on the counter so he could get something to eat, when the cupboard he just opened was gently closed.  
"What?"  
Patton was looming behind him, his hand gently curling around Logan's wrist- his eyes were blown and heady as he gazed at Logan's face- pinched brow and puzzlement in his tight frown.  
"Patton, is something wrong?"  
"Nothing is wrong, dear-heart," Purrs the creative side, deeply, sidling up behind Logan- smoothing his hand down the inside of revealed thigh.  
"Is something the matter with you, L?" Virgil's query is preceded by his cool hand skimming across Logan's forearm and elbow, the trace of his finger pads lighting Logan's nerves into embers.

  
"I- no. There is nothing, presently, the matter." To his chagrin, Logan's voice is stilted, a slight tremor to it, and to his thighs, that Roman's large hands are trailing up and down and then back up, Logan whines suddenly, and, abruptly Patton tightens his grip on Logan's slim wrist. Virgil's breath ghosts the shell of Logan's ear, dangerously close to his neck.

  
"Is something going to become a problem, darling?" The meander of the anxious side's breath is replaced quickly by the wet warmth of his mouth, planting kisses across Logan's neck and catching his lobe between his teeth as he wait's for the logical side's response. It takes a moment, Logan's breath hitches as Patton begins to place feathery kisses upon the inside of his wrist, teeth pinching between every one; Virgil's hot mouth at the junction of his jaw and ear and Roman massaging his thighs with his large, calloused hands- the cacophony of feelings sets Logan's insides ablaze- a conflagration of arousal and passion, only edged away by his undying confusion.

  
"N-No, Sir." Virgil growls into his neck, bringing the skin into his mouth to purple it harshly. "B-but why-" He cuts himself off with a moan as Roman begins to rut selfishly against his shorts-clad ass, mouthing at the nape of his neck, while his hands span across Logan's back and hips with ease. Patton laughs breathlessly against the inside joint of Logan's arm, trailing his mouth sensuously up the contour of his clenching bicep.  
"Bend him over, Princey. Bend him over the contour and let's rip him out of these shorts."

  
Although Virgil and Roman's voices are gravelly with sin and want, Patton is the one to place his warm hand on the small of Logan's back to get him to bend over the counter, to shimmy Logan out of his dark denim shorts and to finger him open.   
Virgil nips and sucks marks into Logan's neck and Roman slides beneath him and suckles at the head of his cock, Logan can barely form the thoughts to postulate about what is happening, he is a heated mess of stuttered breaths and stunted groans, his cock leaking at the push of Patton's fingers at his prostate.  
"Doing so well, gorgeous. Do you think you're ready for Virgil's dick? Ready for him to make you shake?"   
The usually peppy and bright voice of Patton, is deep and silky, an amused quality reflected in it as he makes Logan yelp with his fingers pushing at his g spot, it's hot, paired with swear word Logan is almost shaking without being stuffed full. But Logan can be selfish sometimes too, so he nods quickly and spreads his legs further, bucking his hips slightly in Roman's direction. They all chuckle at his needy stance, and fidgeting hips, causing him to flush in slight shame. Patton tugs at his hair, pulling his head backwards as he removes his fingers.   
"What was that, sweet thing? You can use your words, Logan. "  
There's a noise of liquid and skin behind him and Logan squeezes his eyes shut to maintain any shred of composure that his lovers have not torn from him, he is not quite certain if he's imagining the brush of Virgil's member against his ass but it's all he can do to stop himself from begging.  
"Yes, please, Sir, ready for your cock, Sir."  
Patton chuckles at his neck, and he sinks down slightly to bite ruthlessly at Logan's clavicles and blow cool air on the bruises. Logan tries to ground himself with that lesser pleasure as the fanciful side fills their mouth with his dick and Virgil begins to inch inside him.

  
"Oh my-"  
The last figurative straw snaps and Logan's icy resolve breaks to the fire burning him inside out. Snapping his hips, quickly and devilishly, Virgil ploughs him from behind, hand at his shoulder blades and forehead just beneath. Roman slides his tongue in magical ways, as he bruises Logan's hips with his passionate grip. At his Adam's apple, Patton's lips connect- adding a crown prize to the rest of the bruises possessively clustered in places they cannot be hidden. In the back of his mind, he hears calendar pages flipping and is glad that the next Sander's Sides video is not for a long time. But that's in the back of his mind, and at the front, in the current, the only sound he can hear is the sound of Virgil devastating him. His moans ring true throughout the kitchen, and he faintly notices that his glass is still full and has been pushed away from his clenching fist- scrambling aptly for purchase on the counter's smooth side. Finding little and loosing all rationale, Logan can barely focus on any of the overwhelming feelings at any of the pleasure places on his body- all he can feel is heat, and fire. He feels likes he's been scorched, Guy Fawkes-esque but sinful. Light begins to glare at the corners of his mind and his mouth gets stuck, mechanically, on a low, long groan of some expletive as the light goes white with the sun-type heat in his body and he stammers his hips into Roman's face and his seed down his throat with no warning aside from a yell.

When Logan comes to, it's to the cut off groans of Patton and Roman in the kitchen, still, and with his back to Virgil's front- curled up in the living room, with a blanket covering him and his pair of shorts back on. His brain is foggy and mushy with the reloading detritus of information returning to it's rightful place. With this re-upload of information forgotten in his lustful haze, Logan frowns. Trying to get to the bottom of why he was cornered in the kitchen. For a split second he thinks of getting Patton to dress up as Watson, so he can be Sherlock and thoughtfully deduce the matter, but as Patton slumps into the living room, stuffing himself back into his own pair of knee-length khaki shorts, Logan decides that the time is not right. Solidifying that hypothesis is Roman almost limping into the living room to slump against Virgil. Patton sits next to Logan with a fond smile on his face and he pulls Logan's predominantly bare legs onto his laps and begins to message his ankles with his thumbs. Roman drops his head onto Logan's thigh and nuzzles into his lap, languidly and with lassitude, causing Virgil to snort at his antics and wrap his arms tighter around Logan's middle and drop a hand onto the other free thigh.

  
"Oh."  
Patton looks up with a surprised raised brow. "What's wrong, LoLo? We didn't hurt you did we?"  
Logan preforms an internal analysis of his body, while formulating the words to say, his neck stings in a dull ache and the obvious pain is utterly obvious and inconsequential so he shakes his head, no.  
"It was the shorts wasn't it?"

  
A moment of utter silence descends upon the sides. Before Roman ends up in raucous laughter, muffled by the denim of said shorts. Virgil chuckles into Logan's skull while Patton looks reproachfully at Logan's wrinkled forehead and tense shoulders.  
"Logan, " said side looks up to make eye contact with Patton, whose eyes are gleaming and kind. "Of course it was. How do you expect us not to ravish you when you're showing a hundred acre woods more skin than you usually do, it was delightful."  
"Nice Winnie the pooh reference," Roman's muffled voice declares as he presses a smooch to Logan's clothed stomach. "Was it not on purpose, though?"  
"The Winnie the pooh reference? Of course it was silly."  
"No, no. The shorts."

  
Everyone looks at Logan in interest, with wonder and curiosity usually stapled with the side they're staring at. The side who slowly blinks in amounting confusion.  
"No, I.. I was just warm, it is literally summer right now, which is known as shorts-weather, is it not?"  
Virgil hums in agreement but Roman cocks a sceptical brow. "Well, okay, yes. But why were you gallivanting around in said clothes?"  
Startled, Logan recoils and coughs- "I don't believe I was."  
Patton bursts out into another round of giggles and both Roman and Logan looked affronted at the sound of the optimistic chirps.  
"Roman, I think you've just been blinded by Logan's beauty there, kiddo."

  
Roman and Logan both splutter in fluster, rosy red and flushed, but Logan presses an embarrassed kiss to Roman's head and wonders if any other types of clothing can get the Sides to exude this type of behaviour. It will be an experiment that definitely needs further testing and thought.


	2. Maid and Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Do you do top!Logan? Its fine if you don't (just ignore this if so). How about logicality with maid!Patton trying to get into his master!Logan's pants? Idk... it's fine if you don't wanna do it though!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Logan/Patton ; Logicality  
> Chapter Includes: Maid costumes, dares/bets, masturbation, implied trans male character, degradation, sex, master kink, fingering, d/s, dirty talk  
> Warning: degradation, purposefully vague description of genitals (implied trans), slight mention of over stimulation  
> (let me know if there is anything else potentially triggering or something I've missed)

It starts out with a dare. It’s harmless, everyone is laughing about it but it ends up with them exploiting Patton's need to help everyone, and making him serve everyone. 

But then, the dare turns into a bet- with Roman and Virgil conspiring together with twin snickers, behind cupped palms. 

How long can Patton go serving Logan until Patton and/or Logan gets bored?

They postulate over it more and more until Virgil, the tumblr buff, adds one more coy stipulation and switches the bet from funny to arousing. Have Pat dress up as a maid and see how long it takes for him to get fucked by Logan during the serving section of the original dare.

Patton and Logan agree to the dare. Or rather, Logan agrees knowing not the last little additive and Patton saying yes to all of it with an uncharacteristically snarky grin on his face.

“Roman says one day and I say three, what about you, Pat?”

“I’ll break him in six hours!”

* * *

But then six hours pass, because, Logan is smart. He knows. As soon as Patton sashays in, the ruffles of the maid skirt swaying in a tantalising manner across his plush thighs. His mouth pouty and eyes wide. Logan is certain he knows what’s going on.

So he holds out. He forces Patton to do menial but testy tasks, pretending he only knows of the dare and is trying to bore him.

“Would you mind dusting the leftmost bookshelf, dear? Only the top two shelves. “

“Can you hoover this side of the carpet, please, I've analysed it to be dustier then the rest.”

“Patton, turn this page for me? Yes, I know I have my hands free, but you offered.”

After two days, Logan asks Patton to bake something- both to give Logan a little time to breathe and to give Patton a lot of time to fume.  Patton rarely gets angry, and he isn’t necessarily angry now, but he’s tired and horny and pouts dramatically at Virgil who is sat on the kitchen table, downing coffee.

“Hey, padre. How’s it going?” 

“It’s not...”

Patton starts puttering and baking and swishing his hips and stomping his feet and squirming testily. Virgil bites back a laugh, coming up behind his boyfriend to hug him sweetly. Sighing, Pat relaxes and droops his back into Virgil’s chest further as they stand there for a moment before hearing Romans heavy stomps down the stairs, he rounds the corner and scoops up the pouty puffball padre.

“How are you doing, beautiful!”

“Oh awful Roman, he asks me to do such boring things and barely even looks at me!”

“I think it’s time to seduce him!”

Virgil splutters from behind them before muffling his cackles with a palm.

“Really?”

“Really, Rudey Kaur! I am positive it will work!”

Between finishing the cookies he’s baking and flitting betwixt his boyfriends, Patton cooks up a real plan. And by the time the cookies have cooled and Logan’s coffee is brewed, Patton is confident and peppy. He starts up the stairs when Virgil makes a startled noise and rushes over to him.

“Pat, to add to this uh... top plan.”

“Yes, baby?”

With a flush that pinkens at the pet name: "Call him master...” And then he flees over to Roman, leaving Pat blinking owlishly and then grinning devilishly.

* * *

“Cookies and coffee are ready LoLo!”

Logan blinks and turns to look at a rosy and smiley Patton; it warms his heart slightly but his ice demeanour does not melt.

“Thank you, kindly, Patton.”

“Do you want me to do anything else, m-“

“Hm, entertain yourself by doing whatever, I suppose.”

And then Logan’s nose is buried in a book, his thoughts quiet and calculated, straining his ears to listen to Patton huff and shift awkwardly. Wiggling in place for a while, balefully, before flopping onto the bed, Logan can hear the sound of him crawling up the bed to the headboard and the rustling of fabric causes him to tense so hard he almost breaks the cookie in his hand.

The heat and tension in the room is palpable and Logan starts crunching on his cookie to try and ignore the slide of satin beneath hands and skin against skin and-

“Oh gosh, oh! Mmmmas-“

Before the second half of that syllable is dropped akin to a match into a puddle of petrol, Logan has slammed himself around on his wheely chair, and is upright and tall, imposing and dark.

Patton squeaks and flinches slightly at sudden noise before moaning and rapidly continuing his movements.  Logan rakes his eyes up down the sight, laid out, sprawled out on his bed is Patton, of course, adorned in satin and lace- his apron and skirt bunched so his hand could trail south, fabric and skin damp with arousal.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Logan’s tone is pointed, like the end of a dagger, following his eyes up and down Patton's thighs. Said thighs tensing at the thought.

“I- I. Master please, I've wanted you all week.”

“It’s been two days, Pat.”

“Well, master it’s been two days too long.” With that, Patton is shimmying harder down onto his hand, moaning sassily but earnestly at the feeling. Logan growls.

SMACK.

“Move your hands.”

Patton whimpers at the sting on his thigh and moves his hands to be pinned above him by his dark-eyed dom. 

“You think you’re clever? Think you’re smart and sexy, honey, huh?”

Patton opens and closes his mouth, settling for a low whine and not an impression of a guppy fish as he rocks his hips up into Logan’s denim clad thigh. 

“Answer me.” 

“Y-yes, master. Thought it would be smart to seduce you, needed to get fucked, needed it.”

Logan laughs, harsh and amused.

“Dumb slut, I’m the smart one, not you.”

Again, Patton whimpers and struggles halfheartedly against Logan’s hands on his wrists. 

“Pat..” Logan breaths softly for a moment, his eyes low lidded, hungry but kind- warmer than his ice persona. “Patton, what colour?”

At his clemency, Patton melts and nuzzles momentarily at Logan’s neck pressing an actually innocent kiss there before smiling softly, “Green.”

“Okay.” Overtly, the dominance slides back into place as Logan shifts one hand to hold both wrists and drops the other one to wander across the handsome and soft curves of Patton's thighs.  “Prepped already, I see. Cock hungry whore.” 

Logan’s slim, cool hands breach Patton and he begins to finger him with the earnestness and passion that was usually up to Roman. He scissors his fingers and drinks up Patton's moan with an exploratory tongue and teeth to his bottom lip. 

“Oh, my master- please!”

Logan chuckles into Patton's neck, “you don’t get to call the shots, after this little stunt you’ve pulled, honey.”

He pulls out his fingers and undoes his belt. Shucking his trousers off and his boxers and shirt follow suit. The order barely matters to Patton, who’s whining and wiggling again like a horny caterpillar for Logan to fill up. Before anything too harsh, Logan brushes a silky kiss on his maids sweat dotted forehead, then with a hand guiding his entrance- he slams into Patton. Patton's glasses slip down his sweat slick nose as he throws his head back, mouth stuck on a silent scream, fingers grasping for purchase on Logan’s broad shoulders.

“Oh!”

The pace Logan sets is ruthless, slamming hard and fast into the poor submissive, sucking hickeys into his neck and sliding his palms up and down Pats exposed thighs. 

“Is this what you wanted, servant? Huh? Are you pleased at this turn of - ah- events?” 

Nodding dumbly, Patton chokes on the air and his own spit and he tries to fuck himself harder onto Logan’s hot cock. 

“So, so good to me master. Oh fuck, Logan! Master, may I come? Oh!”

Logan grunts into Patton's shoulder, his teeth in the smooth fabric and his hands tearing into the skirt, literally. 

“In a moment, servant. Wait for Master.” Logan slinks his hand down to get Patton off as his pumps his hips faster and groans into Patton's consume.  The reason for all of this.

Patton lets out a whine.

“I can’t- I can’t. Master I need to finish, need to!”

“Let go, love, go on.”

That’s all Pat needs, his eyes rolls back and he hugs Logan tight, letting out a guttural sob, and splatters all across his dainty little skirt. Logan finishes moments later, overstimulating Patton slightly and coming on the skirt too.

* * *

They are left on the bed, cuddled into each other, fully naked now, when Roman and Virgil come up for some of the cookies.

“Ah fuck, Princey seems like you won the bet...”

“As a royal should.” 

Patton breathes out a laugh into Logan’s neck and Logan chuckles solidly too, before turning and nosing at Patton's ear.

“They may have won the bet, but I think I've won your body for the next couple of days, brat. Parading around like you have control gets you punished.”

Patton groans with a pained but gleeful smile before chomping on his own cookie, sated and well fucked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send in any prompts or requests! :)


	3. Masochist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Please do a Masochist Virgil in a Poly relationship ;w;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: LAMP (V/L/R/P)  
> Chapter includes: masochist Virgil- hair pulling kink, spanking kink, choking kink, slight humiliation kink, slight praise kink. Blowjobs/face fucking. Aftercare.  
> Warnings: Pain. possible slight non-con, but nothing bad, just playful teasing and accidentally turning someone on. Passing out.  
> (let me know if anything else could be potentially triggering, or if I've straight up missed something)

Fridays are famILY nights.

That’s how it’s been for a while and that’s how it will continue to go. 

Virgil doesn’t hate family nights anymore. He doesn’t, he swears. Despite the charade he pulls, of exasperation and boredom. He enjoys watching Romans eyes light up with passion as he sings a long to Disney movies. He loves it when Logan smiles all giddy and hidden when he does deduce the cluedo murderer correctly.  And he adores it when Patton bakes, and smiles all watery and proud when they tell him it’s good. He doesn’t hate family night.

But the moods been off for a couple days, Thomas had to discredit a really idea because of a time crunch, and a certain friend isn’t responding to his texts right now. So as they sit in the living room, the air is thick and heavy.

Virgil has his hood up and his hands in his pocket as he curls into the edge of the sofa, watching Logan and Roman angrily try and finish this card game of sh(it)he(a)d.Patton is on the opposite side of the sofa, making wide eyes at Virgil because tensions are rising and no one is too happy about. 

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Look who beat your scholarly ass, _Teach_!” 

Roman slams down his final hidden card and grins toothily and triumphantly at a livid Logan. 

“Well, the game must be still going, because it’s the only shithead I see right now is you, Roman.”

That starts it off, red faced yelling and Anxiety is done with it, Patton is trying to calm them with promises of Go Fish and cookies but Virgil decides he’s going to just go in head on and stop this.  Stalking, he stands right in the middle glaring down at Roman and Logan.

“Guys, kindly, shut the fuck up, this isn’t very family friendly for our literal family night.”

“Ugh, Aristotle and Shantay away from me, Virgil.”

And Roman threads his fingers into the anxious sides hair to pull him away from the centre of his and Logan's back and forth, badminton battle ground.  But Virgil groans, at the harsh tug of Romans’ hand deep in his hair, the sting of his scalp and the fact it brings his eyes to water.

“Roman!” Patton exclaims, rushing over to Virgil, who he assumed was in pain, “I’m ashamed of you- pulling his hair that hard!”

“It was a very childish thing to do, Roman.”

“Get lost; Firefox. I didn’t mean it to be that rough, sorry Virge.”

Yet Virgil is swaying slightly, his mouth agape and eyes glossy. Cheeks pink and hands fiddling with the bottom of his hoodie. 

“I, oh Virgil, are you okay?”

Romans hand is still loose in Virgil’s hair, and Virgil is hyper aware of the way his fingers have curled around a knot, he wants to shift away but it’ll snag and he’s already getting turned on. 

“I.. yeah, no, Princey isn’t that strong come on. I was just uh, startled.”

Making an affronted noise, the prince tugs on Virgil’s hair playfully but powerfully once more and Virgil has to bite the inside of his cheek so as to not moan but he laughs and kind of rushes away from their kerfuffle.

“Virgil! Family night isn’t over!”

“I stopped the fighting, Pat, now I gotta go pee.”

In the bathroom, Virgil stares at his red face in the mirror and tries to breath.

* * *

At a later date, Virgil is bent over the kitchen counter, casually, on his phone and focused on anything but the world around him. Coffee is brewing beside him and his thumbs idly tap something random into the search bar.  Roman and Patton are chatting behind him, and Patton eyes up Virgil, bent over, laughing before playfully smacking him on the butt. Not hard enough to hurt, just to startle him out of his daze. Virgil helps and laughs- embarrassed- going to stand up, and properly join in on the conversation.

“No Pat, you’ve gotta do it like this.”

Virgil’s eyes widen as Roman swings his hand back and brings it down on his ass with a smack and a cackle. Patton whistles and laughs rubbing Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil tenses and yelps once more, louder this time. 

Roman is too busy laughing at Virgil’s red face and Patton is giggling too, but Virgil is.. well he’s hard. So he scoffs, makes a snarky comment, grabs his coffee and sinks down. Too hard to shamble back to his room without making a scene. He moans lightly when he sits down, surprised Roman hit him hard enough for it to hurt like that. 

* * *

_ It keeps happening.  _

They dress up as each other in a Sanders Sides Video.

Patton as Virgil (he looks very cute in the oversized purple hoodie and eye shadow).  Roman in Patton's (He should not be able to pull of that cardigan and yet-).  Logan in Roman's (The crisps lines of the costume suit him perfectly although he looks awkward in such a fanciful thing).  And Virgil is in Logan’s, he feel self conscious without the Layers, but the glasses make him laugh. 

Logic is stood in front of him, tying the tie when he pulls a bit to tight, for, suddenly, Virgil cannot breath for a second.

“Oh, Virgil, I am so sorry there, my fingers slipped.” 

Virgil’s coughs as it is loosened and rubs his hands against his throat- willing himself not to get hard in Logan’s denim jeans.

* * *

Then it’s Friday again. 

And Virgil is curled up under Patton's arm watching Dumbo, the original not the remake. With Romans head on his lap, and Logan in the kitchen getting drinks.  They’re all kind of distracted, until Logan brings the drinks in and Virgil subconsciously goes to get up and help him. 

“Awh V, stay here.”

Patton whines and before Virgil can respond he’s being pulled down by a hand in his hair. He can’t help it, he moans, the sound caught in his throat as his thighs tense.  They all look at him, with equally shocked faces. There's a beat, after the aroused sound rings out, where you could hear a pin drop, Virgil's legs go from tense to shaking slightly, and his fight or flight starts to kick in. But, Logan smirks, soft but meaningful.

“Ah, my hypothesis was correct, as per usual.”

Virgil stammers, cheeks all pink and cherry blossoms, hands- all fidgety and earthquakes.

“S-shut it, L.”

“How about you open it, Virgil?”

Patton and Roman look up, quickly, at Logan with interest and surprise, and Virgil just kind of shuffles back further into the couch to gaze up at him, eyes massive and breath hitched.  Logan ducks down and slides his fingers across Virgil’s jutted bottom lip, tugging at it lightly before dropping his hands to the other's throat. He glances up before he starts to press and squeeze. Virgil nods haphazardly, throwing an arm over his face. 

“Please.” Is all he says, and Logan is wrapping a hand around his throat and calculatedly cutting off his oxygen. Roman let’s out a gasp as Virgil’s breath hitches and his hips buck. Roman slaps him experimentally on the thigh and the choked off, gravelly moan that whistles out of Virgil’s mouth is worth the experiment. Patton tugs his hair back and Virgil is digging his nails into his palm, focusing on such delicious pain, the sting of a hand, lack of breath, the tug of fingers. But then Logan’s mumbling something and all the other sides move away from Virgil. Leave him sagging and trembling like a leaf in a storm. Fitting almost. 

Virgil is shaking as he removes his arm from draped askew his face, only to look up and almost faint. Logan is undoing his tie, his thin fingers undoing it deftly and quickly. 

“On your knees. Sofa or floor?”

Virgil drops to the floor, his bum on his heels and his head tilted up- pupils blown and hands twitching on his thighs. 

“Good boy.” Full body shudder.

“Patton- no wait. Roman use your sash to tie his hands back, Virgil. strip. Patton help him.”

They strip Virgil down and tie his hands behind him, he is a shivering sight, beautiful and pale, lips quivering and eyes likes saucers. Gently Logan loops the tie around his neck.

“Colour.” Roman gapes at the logical side and nuzzles into Virgil’s shoulder while Patton runs his hands through the naked sides hair.

“G-green..”

Logan nods, and unzips his trousers. it’s humiliating, to be the only one naked, every else’s clothes rubbing against him in a way that sets his nerves into a frenzy. Virgil loves it.

“Open up, buttercup.” Patton hums, stroking Virgil’s jaw with soft fingers before hooking two fingers into his mouth and opening his jaw for him. Virgilgrunts and closes his eyes, keeping his tongue out of his mouth and letting the others use him. Roman ties the tie and hands it to Logan who tightens it slightly and uses it to pull Virgil’s face onto his cock.

“Hands and Knees Virgil.” Roman whispers, urging Logan to drop down a bit too, the side does so cocking a brow at the quiet, frivolous side. 

“Good boy.” Said side coos to Virgil, smoothing his hands down towards his ass and then

_ Smack. _

Virgil jolts, mouth swallowing Logan’s cock until he gags and dribble drips down his chin. Roman smirks and Patton is rubbing himself through his khakis at the sight of his wonderful boy doing so well.  Virgil continues to get smacked and choked while he takes Logan’s member, hungrily trying to deep throat as much as he can without passing out from lack of air. In the end, Patton pinches Virgil’s nose and holds him still as Logan fucks his face. Roman lands on last hit to Virgil’s ass and Virgil sighs out his last breath, Logan shooting down his throat and Virgil’s vision prickling like static.

* * *

When he recovers, he’s swaddled in a blanket, untied and un _tied_. Patton cooing soft praise to him whilst petting his hair and peppering a litany of little kisses across his cheek.  Roman is nuzzled into Virgil’s naked back, his lips present and soft on his shoulder blade. All vacant, until  Logan is pressing a cold glass of water to his mouth and saying “Drink.” Before rubbing soothing balm across his body and kissing him sweetly on the mouth.

Virgil doesn't hate famILY night; not one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> send in requests and prompts! :)


	4. Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: would you mind doing a moceit fic with a top deceit and bottom patton?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Moceit ; Deceit/ Patton  
> Chapter Includes: clothing kink, possessiveness, d/s elements, slight corruption kink, blowjobs, slight service top! deceit  
> Warnings: N/A i think?

It’s summer, slats of light bleeding through the blinds and letting everything glow pale yellow and sweetly. Deceit is basking casually in the sun, wearing sweatpants and a short sleeved top, the sun warms him gloriously and he’s close to sleep when the others start to come down. 

He notices, with a single eye creaked open, that everyone is wearing more summery clothes. Logan and Virgil wearing shorts. Roman wearing a romper (romphim?); and Patton, wearing a dress . 

The sides have their own themes and comforts, the tend to stick to them to a tee. Colours, such as Deceit still wearing a yellow tee. Clothes, Virgil’s hands are shoved into his hoodie still, despite his lanky, shorts-clad legs. Personality, Roman exudes grandeur in his royal coloured romper and Logan, his outfit is still crisp and scholarly, he himself gives out a vibe of togetherness and professionalism. Patton, Patton usually wears flowy, pastel coloured dresses, innocent but with an aura that he can get stuff done. 

Deceit hisses to himself, because today, today Patton is wearing a dress that’s a bit too small, and very yellow. Yellow is admittedly a summery shade, but it’s also Deceit's shade. Deceit's colour. 

Deceit, who has a pit of colluding dark heat in stomach and narrowed eyes as he watches Patton carefully make breakfast for the others. Observes the way his hands are skilled and dainty, flipping eggs and turning taps on, like the turning of a safe. Graceful and precise. Fatherly and comforting. Together and collected.

_Hmm_. Something has _go_ t to change.

* * *

After breakfast, most sides go outside but Patton curls up on he sofa to read the newspaper. Deceit lounges there with him, plotting and conspiring to himself. 

“Patton.” Happily, Patton looks at Deceit who has slithered on over, to laze by the elder side with low lidded eyes and a smile. “I totally hate your dress, it’s ugly and you look awful.” His tone is coy and he rubs the material between his ungloved fingers, it’s soft and cottony. A brief look of uncertainty flickers across Patton's face before realisation hits and he goes pink. A nice hue to match the dress. Deceit smiles fondly up at him from where he’s lead, sidling up closer to press a kiss to his knee and then thigh and then place his head on the last place he pecked. 

Patton looks momentarily startled before carding a soft hand through even softer hair and smiling himself.  “Aw well thanks kiddo, I was a bit worried about the colour but I'm glad you like it!”  Deceit wets his lips with his tongue and looks up at Patton, eyes careful but pupils slightly larger than usual. 

“Are you saying yellow is a bad colour?” He slights with a smirk, and a faux- offended hand placed daintily on his chest- like he’s highlighting a wound. Patton guffaws goofily and presses a smacking kiss to the presented ‘wound’. Shaking his head and laughing, so innocent and sweet, and pink and pink and _yellow_. 

With that, Deceit pounces. A soft leap, at Patton's neck and exposed shoulders, peppering kisses and grazing teeth. Gasping, Patton falls back against the sofa and kind of wiggles beneath him before laughing, Deceit chuckles a bit too- looming over the elder and taller side. Pat's hands slide over Deceit's shirted shoulders, bunching up the fabric as they begin to kiss sweetly. Patton tastes like bubblegum toothpaste. Deceit's tongue is coffee flavoured, he feels like he’s swiping away layers of facade and composure, decaying something fresh and clean. Knuckles whiten, as fingers fist in the back of the snake's shirt. Deceit begins to lavish affection and attention on exposed skin, marking it, making it rosy and flushed. His hands cup Patton's thighs and slide up, rough finger pads catching on soft skin and stretch marks as they hike higher and higher, beneath flowy cotton and cotton boxers. There’s a hiccup in Patton's chest, and his hands leap to Deceit's dark hair. His breath is laboured, belaying and lagging as it catches as Deceits fingers catch another spot that makes him shiver. A patch on the left of his leg. A sliver on his hip. His half hard- 

Deceit bites hard on his neck, leaving the harsh marks of teeth and the whine that is strung from Patton makes Logan, who is walking through the door, turn right back around. 

Patton is squirming, now, fingers clasping and unclasping, face flushed so red with arousal and utter, joyous surprise. 

“Dee,” he whispers and Deceit looks up from his place at Patton's stomach, eyes sharp and yellow and bright. Slotted pupil blown. “Dee, I didn’t know- “

Deceit cuts him short with a trailing finger up the underside of Patton's weeping cock. A smirk toying at his lips, curling with the curling part of his Cheshire, serpentine smile. It’s such a dichotomy. Deceit at this level, between Patton's legs with his smug, reptilian face grinning. And Patton, easily amused, easily happy, easily aroused, pink faced and eyes wide- mouth a ragged O of shock. 

Connected by Yellow. 

Deceit deep throats Patton's dick, with the thin fabric of morality’s dress splayed over his head. It’s a control thing, Patton's hands are scrambling and tearing at the sofa fabric now as Deceit sucks every inch of power from the fatherly side. Deceit is much like Crowley from Good Omens, he can do weird things with his tongue, and his tongue is doing aplenty in swallowing Patton to shreds. His hands just slide and press and stroke at the dress clad side's hips, underneath said dress, they do barely anything but feel the Richter scale force quaking of Pat's thighs. They trace shapes as his tongue traces the head of Patton's member. Such power is giving Deceit head rush, a canny buzzing in his skull that leaves him drunk with lust and intoxicated by the bodily taste of Patton. Patton who is whimpering and whining and shaking, and is suddenly trying to buck his hips with force. Trying is the main word. Deceit has him pinned down with a sudden look as he reveals his face, pushing the dress up further, off of his head and above his fingers on the twitchy hips.

“Deeeeee..”  Deceit swallows and hums, his nose to Patton's treasure trail and his eyes on the prize. Patton flushes at the eye contact.  “Please, May I come?”

Deceit forgets to breath as he squeezes his eyes shut and starts to work harder and faster and sloppier on the sides cock. Using one hand to work him up and down, sequentially with his own head bobbing. Deceit is going as fast as he can, noting how Patton dares not buck his hips in his passionate fervour, and his usually peppy and emotive voice has pitched down into incoherent pleasure spells. 

Patton cums down his throat with a shudder and sob. Deceit comes up for air and breathes heavily in Patton's own air space, their sweat slick foreheads resting together and they begin to chastely but meaningfully brush lips. Pattonis a sight, debauched and ruined, sprawled on the couch, with his boxers down and his dress up, up, up. 

It’s a triumph that Deceit didn’t rip it off him, but Deceit does have a fondness for pretty things. Like buttercups, and sunsets and Patton. (And the rest of his boyfriends but- )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a tad bit short so sorry ,,


	5. Their little boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request: Can I ask for Virgil being the main focus in LAMP poly? Praise kink and/or daddy kink? Just like really soft stuff for V.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: LAMP (V/R/L/P)  
> Chapter includes: implied subspace, praise kink, daddy kink, slight implied masochism, blowjobs, d/s elements (?)  
> Warnings: N/A   
> (let me know if there is anything else potentially triggering or something I've missed)
> 
> Note: sorry if this isn't very soft, i have lowkey writer's block and this took me ages to write, even though it's short- im not necessarily unhappy with it but i may rewrite it in the future. - H

Virgil is curled up, ankles linked together, shrouded beneath a soft, fluffy blanket. In the faded light of the living room lamp, he looks soft and warm. Music is chiming out of his earbuds, one tangled headphone about his neck like a necklace and the other in his ear and his eyes droop. He is a photo of comfort and quiet sleepiness. Patton, Roman and Logan are all sat nearby, reading and watching a movie, respectively, it's when rain starts pelting down against the windows that causes Patton to look up. Thunder is rumbling, far away and like a mutter through static, lightning flashes and illuminates the room slightly and Virgil's spacey eyes. Patton watches the blanketed side like a hawk, but less predatory, with kind eyes- as Virgil blinks owlishly, his dewy eyelashes casting shadows down his face as he kind of looks lost.

  
"Virgil..?" Virgil resonates with Patton's warm and strong voice as one resonates with a lighthouse and his ears picking up on it like one's eyes would focus on the beams of light cast. Grounded and found. From his chunky book, Logan looks up at first to Patton who's eyes are searching and clear and then to Virgil, who hasn't responded but is looking at Pat with a wet, drifting gaze. As is the usual, Roman is the last to have his attention torn from his activity; only when Patton kind of floats over does he turn his head. Virgil blinks again, slowly, as if trying to focus but not trying very hard to do it, his eyes are damp and his lips are too. Patton presses a sweet kiss to them, to gauge Virgil's mood- there are one of two ways this night can go. Virgil curling up betwixt them all and shaking like the last leaf in the winter, until the morning crawls its way past the ground, when he passes out; or, as Patton hopes-  
Virgil whimpers, his pallid hands coming up to grab at the blue polo material at Patton's hips, skin sliding through the blanket like a stimulating hug. Akin to a spider or a monkey, Roman climbs over the sofa and scales the back of it so he can slide down behind Virgil, his ears attuned to the music of Virgil's noises. There is magical moment, where Roman settles his arms around Virgil' waist, where Patton is pressing his lips to Virgil's again and where Logan sits beside them all with his cold fingers slid through Virgil's, when it all seems dazed and cosy and sweet. It smells like the sugar cookies that Patton baked earlier, it's warm with the blanket now draped like a tent over Roman's shoulders, too and the noises are muted, with Logan thumbing down the television's volume to a low pitched rumble.

  
"Hey, sweet pea, what do you want tonight, huh?" Virgil wriggles about, under the three's lust and love-laden looks, and kind of settles against Roman's broad chest for a moment, with coy clarity.  
"Anything you want, daddy.." There is a triplet of inhaled breath, and then Roman's hands slide quickly up Virgil's body, beneath his heavy hoodie, with heavier hands that land on his throat and on his chest. Virgil arches underneath the touch- stimulated suddenly, his mouth hanging open and letting out hot panting breaths. Roman's fingers drum melodically against his windpipe and Virge whimpers- high pitched and stuck in his oesophagus. Logan's breath is hot on his pelvis as he slides down and tugs the anxious side's ripped jeans down further, his teeth scraping the skin above Virgil's boxers, leaving it pink and Virgil's cheeks pinker.

  
"Baby boy, I'm gonna' have LoLo suck you off nice and good and Roman touch your sweet body."  
"O-okay, Daddy! I, um, what, what about you?" Patton's hands settle in Logan's hair, sliding him slowly on and off Virgil's weeping prick, Virgil's mewls ring out like fairy bell chimes and Roman is pressing precious, sloppy kisses onto the neck of their sloppy, precious sub. Wiggling in place and moaning-breathy- into the hot air, Virgil grapples helplessly at anyone he can grasp onto, Logan's broad shoulders, fisting in the fabric; Roman behind him, fists sliding off of the satiny material of the prince outfit, clad on his tensing thighs that are tightening around Virgil's slim, bucking hips. Patton watches with a smug smirk on his face, darker on his warm, rosy visage, his hand tightening in Logan's dark hair, pulling him harder on and off, dribbling saliva down Virgil's dick, as he gags and moans quietly. Infinitesimal moans, compared to the abundance of Virgil's, shaky and sweet. "Well, pretty boy, Daddy is in charge of the show."  
"D-da-Ah! Daddy, please, please, please-"

Roman starts sucking purple into the purple and black clad side's neck, red and bitten, flushed and raw. Fingers scratching down his naked chest, then brushing- barely there- down his navel. Stiffening, Virgil tenses at the the changing in pressure, he hooks his ankles round the back of the logical side's skull, dislodging Patton's hand and tips his head skyward letting out a litany of yelps. Chanting for his daddy. "You look so pretty, baby boy. Moaning so delicately for us, what do you need, darling?"

Virgil creaks open his dewy eyes, tears beading at the lash line, glazed and pleasured. He gazes up hotly at Patton, fidgeting with his fingers and trembling, chest, beneath Roman's large hand span- rising and lowering fast. Logan has stopped his movement, and stares up at Virgil's blushing face. Time seems to freeze; no one moves but Virgil's form quaking is the main foci, everyone's seedy eye line- heavy and weighted on his milky, blushy pink skin; his watery eyes; agape slick mouth and twitching hips.   
"N- _need_ to cum, Daddy, please may I cum daddy?" Against his bruised neck, Roman's breath shudders, against his hip bones Logan's tremor.  
"Well, my dear, since you asked so nicely," Patton's hand is ruthless in it's direction but cloying in it's mannerisms, guiding Logan back onto the prize of the night."Like the good boy you are. "

With a wink directed at Roman, since Virgil's eyes are squeezed shut and his eyebrows are furrowed deliciously, Patton pets Logan's head lovingly and dips down to ravish Virgil's mouth with all the love and affection in the world, that can be expressed via his tongue in the whimpering side's mouth.  
With next to no space betwixt them, Pat's attuned mouth picks up the very moment Virgil's moan go from substance to sputter- hitching and hungry, ready for release. Patton waits a belaying moment, watching Roman nibbling at Vee's collarbones, watching Logan deep throat him like a champ. Virgil's finger enclose sacrilegiously around Patton's collar, no pull or push, just wanting and waiting.  
"You, " Virgil stills, awaiting. "can come now, storm cloud, you've been so good for us all, so good for Daddy, the absolute best."  
Logan is given no warning aside from Patton's deep, fatherly rumble and Virgil's leaping hips- twin with a gasp, before Virgil is spilling down his throat. Roman's hand trace patterns across his smooth skin and presses a lot more innocent kisses to Virgil's jaw then he was moments prior.   
The lamp in the corner is spooling warm light, and in their own sequestered afterglow they are coloured warmly and sunnily. The evening hue of love and affection as experienced simultaneously by people who are harmonised to each other's song. They all take turns kissing Virgil's slack mouth, with all the adoration they can muster in their own lassitude slack bodies, before kissing each other and sweeping hands down navels and into trousers, as the anxious side watches sleepily, mumbling softly at what each side should do, and how they should move, dancing the sound of each other and his voice as the rest of the world passes by.

**Author's Note:**

> send in any prompts or requests!


End file.
